Chapter Ten | Brody

I pulled up outside the Rainbow LGBTQ Youth Centre and sat there staring at the building. It had been a bit of an impulse to come here. It was a midweek afternoon so I knew Noah would be at the pub. He wasn't why I was considering going inside today.

I lifted a cloth bag off my passenger seat and made my way through the doors and down to Jamal's office. I'd need to check in with him first.

I knocked on the open door and Jamal smiled up at me.

"Brody! Come on in and have a seat. What can I do for you?"

"It's not about the trial." Best to get that out of the way first.

"That was my next question."

I lifted the cloth bag. "I have something for Kyle."

"What is it?"

I was having second thoughts. "It's nothing special. My mom made them for me." I reached into the bag and retrieved a set of laminated rectangular cards held together by a metal ring.

Jamal leaned forward as I handed them to him.

"What are these?"

"Expression and response cards. At least that's what my mom called them."

"How do they work?"

"Take a look at one of them. "

Jamal did so, selecting a card from the stack. "This one is a sad face?"

"No, there's more angle to the eyebrows. The face is distressed. Look on the back of the card."

Jamal flipped the card over. "Ah. It says distressed at the top. That's good that it's named."

"Read the rest."

"Okay." Jamal's gaze scanned the card. " What the body might be doing. Hands that tremble. Arms crossing the stomach. Increased swallowing. " He looked up at me. "Your mom made these?"

I nodded. "Keep reading."

Jamal cleared his throat. " Questions to ask. Are you all right? Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need me to call someone?" He set the cards down. "These are amazing."

"They helped me a lot when I was Kyle's age. I'm on the autism spectrum."

Jamal nodded like he knew already. That made my gut tumble a little. Usually, when I was in my professional capacity, my masking was almost seamless. I must have given it away when I couldn't speak after Noah touched me in Jamal's office the weekend before last.

"You think Kyle will benefit?"

"Noah told me that Kyle speaks sometimes. It's possible he won't remain non-verbal. He just needs some help knowing what to say. I explained to Noah that there was so much noise in my head as a kid … still is, to be honest, but I'm able to think past it now."

"These cards would only be one small step."

"That's why I'd like permission to sit with him too."

Jamal peaked his fingers as he considered, a slight dip in his eyebrows. He was concerned. And rightly so. I wasn't an autism specialist. I only knew stuff from my own experience. I might be no help to Kyle at all. But I wanted to try. We were kindred.

"You'll need to sign a waiver," Jamal said at last.

"I figured. I have no problem with that."

Jamal pulled open a drawer at the side of his desk and rooted around inside it. He produced a document and handed it to me along with a pen. "Normally, we would ask for a police record check before you interact with any of the kids. And I will want one from you. You can give the cards to Kyle today and explain them to him. But that'll be the extent of it until I have that record check. And I'll need to be in the room with you, but I'll stay out of the way."

I was glad that Jamal was so cautious with the kids. The organization was well run. I liked to see that. LGBTQ youth deserved the very best. They didn't always get it from home. I'd been lucky. During my second year of university, I decided to officially come out to my mom. It seemed to be what people did. Come out. It had felt strange and awkward because I was certain my mom already knew I liked guys. I'd done it to feel like I fitted in with other queer people.

My mom, of course, knew. She'd hugged me and told me she loved me. Not all kids' experiences were as positive as that. Some ended up being thrown onto the streets. I suspected some of the kids here at this centre were in that situation. It made my heart ache to think about it.

I read through the waiver and signed it. It was a standard form. No surprises. I felt comfortable putting my signature on it and promising to commit the time.

Jamal reached across the desk. "Welcome to the Rainbow LGBTQ Youth Centre volunteer program." I took his hand and shook it. This was monumental. I'd never volunteered anywhere before. He rolled out from behind his desk. "Kyle is in the library. "

As reported, Kyle was sitting on the floor near the corner of the room, knees tucked up near his chest, a book resting on them. His gaze flitted away from the page for a brief second.

"Do you mind if I sit?" I asked him.

He shook his head; the size of it was made larger by the headphones he was wearing. I'd guessed they were only being used to block out some of the noise in the centre.

He could still hear me.

"Do you remember me?"

Kyle nodded.

"My name is Brody. I used to have a pair of headphones like that."

No reaction except for him flipping a page. I looked at the text on the page he was reading. The AIDS epidemic of the 80s. Kyle didn't mind delving into the serious stuff in our history.

"I had an uncle who died of AIDS."

Kyle turned and looked at me.

"He was really young. In his 20s." I sighed. It's why my dad thought his prejudice was valid. He'd lost his brother because he was gay. Or at least that's the way he looked at it. No amount of debating with him had made any progress. "His family disowned him when he got sick."

"Bastards," Kyle practically hissed.

I smiled at him. I was going to like this kid. "Can I tell you something else?"

Kyle nodded.

"I'm like you. I have a lot of noise in my head. Add in the noise and bright lights on the outside, and it can get pretty deafening in my head. Makes it hard to think and speak."

Kyle's eyebrows dipped ever so slightly.

I pressed on. "Do you have trouble figuring out what people are thinking and feeling?"

"Not mom. "

"Yes, I suppose you've learned to read her fairly well."

"Tells me."

Bravo to mom. It seemed she'd got in the habit of telling Kyle how she was feeling and what that felt like on the inside. I reached for my bag of cards.

"I have something that could help you."

Kyle raised his hand and started tapping his lip.

"It's nothing scary. Just cards." I pulled them out and placed them on the floor, fanning them out so he could see them better. I pointed to one. "This person is frustrated. Do you see how his bottom jaw is thrust out? And his eyes are all pinched." I flipped the card over. "It says here that his fists might be clenched as well. And he might be pacing."

Kyle pointed at the question section.

"Those are things you could ask him. Can I help? Can you tell me what's going on? Then you wait for an answer. Depending on what he says, you can try to figure out how best to respond. I find that part is easier. It's the initial question that used to trip me up. Still does sometimes."

He lay his hand on the cards.

"Yeah, you can borrow them." I tucked them neatly back in the bag. When I glanced at him, Kyle had gone back to reading. I clambered up off the floor. "See you, Kyle."

No response.

Jamal was smiling when I reached the doorway.

"That went well," he said.

"I think so."

"It's rare to hear him speak."

"He had important things to say. Noah says I do that."

I followed as Jamal started to wheel down the hall. "You and Noah are getting closer?"

"We went on a date." That's all he was getting from me. Jamal was in a trustworthy position at the centre but that didn't mean I should trust him. Alesia would disagree but I felt more comfortable going at my own speed. Maybe in time, Jamal would become a friend. I respected the hell out of him and what he was doing. Noah too. That man had a lot on the go with running that pub and still found time to volunteer to help LGBTQ youth.

Yet, Noah seemed to think his efforts weren't good enough. It kept him driven but it made me sad that he didn't realize how incredible he was. He didn't need to reach perfection. He needed to reach happiness and purpose. He seemed to have reached both of those things.

Maybe I was missing something. It wouldn't be unusual for me to get things wrong. I had thought Ricky loved me. His face and his body always told me that story. I had missed the clues.

"You should know that Kyle is transgender," Jamal said.

That might explain some of Kyle's delicate features. I wouldn't have known if Jamal hadn't told me. "When did he express his identity to his mom?"

"When he was six. Refused to wear girl's clothes and wanted his hair cut short. Kept yelling boy at her when she tried to talk him out of it. She started him on puberty blockers a year ago."

"So, he's what … twelve … thirteen?"

"Almost thirteen."

"Cutting it close."

"His mom wanted to be sure. Plus, it was difficult for Kyle to talk to a psychologist. His mom said he got enough words out to convince the doctor, though."

"It was important to him. He cut through the noise. He was absolutely sure."

"She says he's happier now. Not as volatile. Sometimes reads aloud to himself at home."

"That's encouraging. I'm looking forward to hanging out with him. "

"Do you want to meet his mom? She should be here any second."

The suggestion made my heart beat a little faster. I worried about saying the wrong thing.

"You don't have to," Jamal added.

"I want to."

"Perfect." As if on cue, a young woman made her way down the hall. She was delicate like Kyle. The difference was, she was smiling and there was a lightness about her.

"Michelle, I want you to meet someone," Jamal said and motioned to me. "This is Brody. He's new to our volunteer program, he's a criminal lawyer, and he's on the autism spectrum."

"Oh, goodness." Michelle held one hand to her chest. "It's an absolute pleasure to meet you. I'm assuming you've met Kyle already. How did it go?"

"He responded well to Brody," Jamal answered for me.

"I lent him my emotion and response cards. My mom made them."

"That sounds like a promising resource. Thank you."

"I showed him how to use them. I'd recommend role-playing with him."

"We do a little of that already. I'll see how I can incorporate the cards."

I had nothing else to say, so I nodded my head.

"Okay, Brody. Once that criminal record check is done, I'll give you a call," Jamal said. "We'll discuss when you're able to come into the centre."

I looked at Kyle's mom. "It was nice to meet you."

She said it back and then I left. I wasn't sure if I should go home or head back to work for a couple of hours. I'd be going to the pub tonight. I'd be seeing Noah again. The past couple of days of seeing each other had brought us closer. That kiss we'd shared had started something new. The conversation we'd had afterward added a whole new layer to what we were building.

It felt good.

I was too excited to head back to the office. Both with my growing attraction to Noah and my decision to volunteer for a cause I hadn't known I felt so passionate about.

I stayed parked outside the youth centre and called my mom.

"Brody," she said. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"I've been busy."

"Lots of cases?"

"Among other things." I could barely contain the thoughts buzzing around in my mind. Collecting the words would be challenging if I wasn't speaking to my mom.

"That sounds intriguing."

"I'm a volunteer at the Rainbow LGBTQ Youth Centre."

"Oh, my … that is exciting."

"I'm going to help a boy on the spectrum. I lent him my emotion cards."

"I didn't know you still had those. That was very kind of you."

"It made me feel happy."

"That's all I've ever wanted for you."

Moving on. "I met a man."

"Oh?"

"His name is Noah … and he's incredible."

My mom was silent. I knew what she was thinking. "Are you taking it slow?"

"I've known him for weeks and we kissed for the first time last weekend."

"He knows you're on the spectrum?"

"Yes, and he accepts me for who I am. It's like he's known me for years. He knows when to back off and let me regroup. He never pushes me. "

"So, he treats you well?"

"He's not like Ricky, Mom. Noah is different."

"I believe you. I'm sorry I'm so protective, Brody. I know you're a grown man."

"I don't mind you being protective."

"Do I get to meet him soon?"

"Not yet. He's not my boyfriend."

"Is that what you want? To be his boyfriend?"

That very thought had been gnawing at me. I didn't want to screw this up, what Noah and I were doing. Having a boyfriend meant sex and I wasn't ready for that with him yet. It wouldn't just be sex like all the men I'd been with. When Noah and I were intimate for the first time, it would mean something significant to both of us. I was sure of it.

"We're working toward it."

"I'm glad you're taking your time. You just jumped in with Ricky before you even knew him very well. I hated what that did to you, his deception and his cheating."

"It's not going to happen again."

"You're positive this Noah is a good man."

"The best. He's a bit hard on himself, though. Doesn't realize how special he is."

"If that's how you feel, you just keep on telling him."

"The words rarely get stuck when I'm with him."

"That's a good sign. It means you're starting to trust him."

I frowned. I didn't like to talk about trust with my mom. She and my dad had broken my trust in them many years ago. It had taken a long time to forgive them. My dad moreso. His lies were so much worse than my mom's. Trust had rebuilt with my mom but not him. Never him.

"I'm tired of talking."

"Then, I'll let you go. I'm glad you found someone who makes you happy."

"Bye, Mom. "

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

I always forgot to say it first, that I loved her. What would I be like if I fell in love with Noah? Would I remember to tell him first sometimes? I hadn't with Ricky. But then I'd never felt the close connection between us as I did with Noah. He made me feel more than happy. I felt appreciated and cherished like I was worthy of love. Aside from my mom, I'd never felt that way before.

I decided to drive home and work there. I'd brought my latest files with me in case I chose to be home with my animals. After I took Bentley out, I fed everyone and spent some time talking with the parrots and giving their heads lots of strokes. Patricia, specifically, liked it when I petted her feathers. They both made me smile. Their chatter was random and spontaneous. Philip liked to curse a blue streak. Whoever his last guardian was, they'd had a mouth on them.

Of course, my evening at the pub held many memorable moments. Conversation with Noah flowed easily for me. I hated leaving him but I had more work to do.

Many hours later with my files and my laptop on my bed, I picked up my phone. It wasn't like me to initiate a texting conversation, but the urge grew in me.

I only had one thing I wanted to say.

Me: Goodnight, Noah.

I lay down on my pillow, holding the phone near my face, waiting for a response.

It felt like I had taken another step forward.